


Black, White, and Gray

by BrainlessGenius



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Discussions of Morality, Gen, Morality, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Tries, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill, Self-Doubt, blink and you miss it internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrainlessGenius/pseuds/BrainlessGenius
Summary: Patton wasn't stupid, yet he finds himself looking back and wondering when exactly everything became so complicated. When did morality become so complex?Maybe he was stupid.A fill for the prompt: Patton angst
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Black, White, and Gray

He wasn’t stupid. Patton knew that much.

A little lagging, perhaps, like one of those fun, animated loading screens on websites that kept you dazed while it buffered; but not stupid.

He often wondered when everything had changed.

In childhood, the others always looked up to him. They ran to him when another kid needed help, or to ask if they were doing the right thing. They thanked him for every gold star on the “nice list” and told him to lead the way. He was, after all, _Morality_. He knew good from bad and memorized right for wrong. He took pride in other people’s smiles and made sure it stayed on. He steered them all in the right direction-- towards the brighter path, the _better_ one. Because that’s what an embodiment of morality does. He does what feels right, what _is_ right, even when he didn’t know why.

Yet, they believed in him, and he believed in himself.

Things couldn’t always be that simple. Thomas grew up and so did they. There were more situations, more questions, more dilemmas -- and everyone seemed to grow up too… _quickly_.

_“Just one test, pops. Just a little peek at the notebook. We’ll fail if we don’t.”_

_“Can’t we like him, Pat?”_

_“Patton, we literally have three projects. Surely we can miss just one Sunday of church?”_

_“Pat, it’s just a white lie. What harm can that do?”_

_“Is there a rule book for that?”_

_“So, wait. We can’t rest yet, because we have to help them?”_

He’ll be damned before he could ever admit that he was just as confused as they were. But they needed answers, and they needed a figure to give them the answers. It could be no one else but him.

He read.

Patton put up a new shelf in his room, just beside Thomas’ old poetry sheets and elementary slam books. He filled the oak shelf with all sorts of readings on morality, law, conscience, religion, values, and virtues. His eyes followed the lines of text in the idle hours of the morning and his lips muttered along as he scanned them through the dead of night. Nevermind the thrumming of his skull as the words got longer, deeper, convoluted, highfalutin; he read until he reeked of dusty paper and yellowing pages.

But he just… didn’t get it.

He did not understand why something innate in his head screamed at him, loud, billowing, and ear-shattering, whenever he read of something they always thought was right being deemed wrong. He did not comprehend why there was a sharp pull, a forceful tug at his chest when the wrong were written down as right.

The words danced around his mind, the theories latched onto the wrinkles of his brain, the philosophies hooked into the in-between spaces, and the concepts, the _truths_ picked apart the very fabric of his heart.

He did not want it to hurt him as much as it did.

There were more arguments.

_“You’re being too strict!”_

_“Pat, don’t you think you should loosen up a bit?”_

_“_ Please _, Patton. You can’t possibly_ think _that?”_

He supposed it made sense that they turned to Logan more often, then. He was _Logic_ , after all. His answers were direct, straightforward, logical, sensical and based on fact. Logan got them where they needed to be. Then again, even when it seemed like everyone had forgotten, Patton was also still _Morality_. He’d never tell them how much it hurt to see himself lose more and more of their trust.

Janus became a regular visitor, which was… great. Patton always encouraged them to interact more, to cross the divide that never should have existed in the first place. Yet, seeing Deceit give everyone the answers they wanted to hear, the answers _Thomas_ wanted to hear, answers that were a complete diversion from his, slapped him across the cheek. Multiple times, in fact, with increasing intensity.

He still tried, though. But trying was difficult when an invisible blindfold was inherently placed over your eyes. Trying wasn’t easy when an involuntary chain yanked and suffocated the muscles of his heart at thoughts that opposed the very definition of his facet.

It was near impossible to even tiptoe towards gray when the very title of “Morality” itself kept him pinned down on black and white.

The validity of Morality’s words diminished while Thomas carried on with life. The next, inevitable step was for them to invalidate his intellect, then his entire being.

And they did.

_“You see! Patton makes statements like that, and you think HE is a Ravenclaw?!”_

_“You know he always shouts out random things, Thomas. Ignore it.”_

Psh. There were probably a lot more, but he figured it wouldn’t do him any better to recall each and every one, would it?

He tried even harder, yet Thomas grew in body and mind only quicker.

He promised he’d tie the chain a little looser, give Thomas the chance to explore beyond Patton’s grasp; but the more he unfurled Thomas’ reigns, the tighter his own got. 

He got a chance, though. He got a chance to prove that he was still Morality; that he still had the answers. He could still be their beacon in the night. They talked of callbacks, friendship, priorities, selfishness, and selflessness. His thoughts swirled around him as he nervously stood within the faux-courtroom setup; the contrasting scents of truth and lies wafting through the stuffy air. His mind felt at war. Half of him saw the merit in Deceit’s points, the emptiness in Thomas’ eyes, the points of Logan’s logic; the other half saw the road ahead, recalled everything they stood for, yelled at him to stand his ground and defend his title. 

They won, yet the chains grew even tighter. 

He didn’t understand how it went wrong. Morality was supposed to be for the greater good. He was supposed to make Thomas happier, at peace, decided, good, _better_. Their win hurt Thomas in the process. Did this mean he was wrong? Did this mean he wasn’t enough? Did this mean he was stu--

No. He wasn’t stupid. His role had to stand for… _something_ , didn’t it? He should know all the answers by now, memorize all the rules, the do’s and the don’ts, the rights and wrongs; but he didn’t. He remembered when it all used to be so simple, candid, and frank. There were no life or death situations, no picking over people they loved, no lose-lose scenarios, no risqué asks. 

When had “no killing” become “no killing, but--”? When did “lying is bad” become “lying is sometimes okay”? 

_“But I mean, you're morality. You're the guy who makes that call so... Why do we do it?”_

_“Okay. How do we know it's the right thing to do?”_

_“What if you can only save the large group of people by hurting another innocent person? That causes pain, but you said the right thing to do is to save the group?”_

Where exactly along the line did these exceptions and repercussions come into the picture? 

_“Okay, um, I'm really not trying to argue with you, Patton. Uh, but you said everyone knows that it's right to save innocent people when you can. Is that not always true?”_

_“But what about the people that got hurt?”_

_“Worse? Worse than what?”_

When did the road get all these roadblocks and intersections? When did the forest canopies touch and intertwine, blurring the line between one tree and another? When did morality become this complex? When did his role become this complicated?

_“Well, when is it enough?”_

_**He doesn’t know.** _

There. He said it. He doesn’t know. He’s sick of all the questions; of all the “why’s”, “how’s”, and “what’s.” He’s tired of all these conjunctions; the “but’s”, “or’s”, and “yet’s.” He’s exhausted from practically burning his way through pages and pages of soot-smelling books and crippled from the strain of the tug-of-war between his heart and his mind. 

He could only watch as Janus took over the situation, took care of Thomas, answered his questions better than Patton ever could. Janus, and not Deceit. If only they remembered that Morality was just half of his name. 

No one could blame Roman for being Creativity, Remus for being his unfiltered counterpart, nor Logan for being Logic, Virgil for being Anxiety, or Janus for being Deceit. Could they really blame him for simply being Morality? 

Maybe the blindfold was still on, perhaps the chains were still tight around his chest, and maybe he’ll never have all the answers; but he was still fighting through his metallic confines to reach for the knot at the back of his head, if only to loosen it up by the slightest fraction, if only to have all the answers they sought.

He will never stop trying.

They can call him stupid all they want.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're all doing okay! Every little support and kudos is eternally appreciated. Check out my tumblr [@nerdy-emo-royal-dad](https://nerdy-emo-royal-dad.tumblr.com/)! Stay safe! <3


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